


Super Gay

by thatmoviegeek



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/F, Heda, History Major Lexa, Superhero Clarke, Superhero Lexa, Telekinesis, collision, flight, of course, super strength, you know me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-01-17 07:53:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12361068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatmoviegeek/pseuds/thatmoviegeek
Summary: "Another normal day under her belt. She could rest easy, knowing that, luckily, this was real life and nothing abnormal would ever happen.And then something happened."OrLexa is a superhero. Well, "hero" is kind of a stretch. She's so busy with college that she couldn't save the city if she tried. Not to mention the lack of villains. Her plan was to just live out her life as a normal person going to a normal college, with normal life goals. Sadly, this wouldn't be the last of her plans to be foiled.





	1. Origin Story

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in college in Chicago so I'm not sure how often I'll be able to update this but I love superheroes and haven't seen anything like this yet so I'm kind of writing it for myself but hey that doesn't mean other people can't enjoy it too!

Lexa sat at her desk, finishing up her math homework when ALL OF A SUDDEN…..her pencil broke.

“Ugh,” she said. In floated a pencil sharpener from her bedroom, which she quickly snatched out of the air.

 

She was aware that she was using her powers of telekinesis for the good of no one except herself but Polis didn’t exactly need saving. In the movies, a villain comes along and it’s the hero’s job to snuff them out. But this was real life. And, as far as Lexa knew, she was the only superhero in the world. Which meant that if she revealed her talents to the public, she’d be the talk of the town, or, more accurately, the planet.

On top of that, she always felt there was some reality to those scenes in movies where scientists do experiments on the superheroes, looking for a way to make some sort of super serum.

Lexa doesn’t want to be a lab rat. She wants to be a history teacher. Which is why she’s in the middle of writing a paper on how different the world would be if the United States had stayed uninvolved in the Vietnam War.

She glanced at the time.

“Shit!” she exclaimed. She slung her backpack over her shoulders, as her papers and folders neatly placed themselves inside. Her toothbrush flew into her mouth as her shoes tied themselves. While she was waiting for her toothbrush to finish up, she made sure she looked presentable in the mirror before leaving.

She walked in the classroom, only 5 minutes late, panting.

The professor spent the rest of the class teaching everyone how to round numbers, something they all had learned in the 3rd grade.

Her powers first started to show their presence when the rest of her body and mind matured: puberty.

The first time she can remember using them was when she was home alone and got her second period. She was completely unprepared for this “surprise” and didn’t know what to do. All she could think was that she needed a pad but couldn’t reach the linen closet to grab one.

Then, the closet door opened and she screamed, thinking someone was inside.

Out floated a pad from the closet.

Obviously, Lexa was confused, but at the same time, she was curious.

Was this the work of a helpful ghost? A gust of wind with good timing, perhaps? Or did she do this herself?

She slowly took the pad from where it floated in front of her face. She decided to try again.

She thought hard about what she needed next: clean underwear. She visualized where it was in her drawer and imagined opening the drawer and lifting the underwear out. She could see it traveling slowly through her room and across the hallway to the bathroom.

Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she focused on turning the handle of the bathroom door and opening it.

When she opened her eyes, there they were, floating just outside the open door.

She was able to beckon them inside where they gently placed themselves in her palm.

After vowing to never reveal her powers to anyone, not even her parents or her sister Anya, she began to train herself whenever she found herself home alone.

This led to cleaning up many spills and, thankfully, only one broken window.

 

Lexa walked back to her apartment where she began using her mind to prepare her supper, watch YouTube videos on the phone floating in front of her, and finish her homework at the same time.

Afterwards, she walked to the gym across the street to work out for an hour. Since she usually didn’t have to use her arms or legs for anything, she tries to exercise them regularly so that they don’t become weak. Additionally, she takes pride in maintaining her toned physique.

Once she was finished, she showered at the gym and walked back to her apartment before playing a few quick races of Mario Kart in her sports bra and underwear.

Lexa yawned before putting her controller down. She stretched as she floated to her room and got under her comforter.

Another normal day under her belt. She could rest easy, knowing that, luckily, this was real life and nothing abnormal would ever happen.

 

And then something happened.

 

She woke up at 3 A.M. to the sounds of sirens and screaming outside her window.

She bolted out of bed and ran to the door, yanking it open and running out of her apartment without a second thought.

Outside, she looked up at a building that was awash with flame, families screaming outside, and policemen trying to make sure everyone got out safe while they all waited for the firefighters.

“There’s no time!” a man shouted. “My son is in there!”

Lexa ran to the couple.

“Did you just say a boy is still in there?” she said, addressing the man who yelled.

“Yes! My son!” the woman interjected. “He’s only 9! We went out to eat and came back to see this!” She began sobbing. “Someone help my boy!”

Lexa stood there and contemplated her options for a moment.

She sighed. “What floor is he on?”

“H-He’s on 6,” the father said as the woman was wracked with emotion.

“Wait here,” Lexa said. “I’ll bring your son to you.”

“You’re not going in there!” the man said, grabbing Lexa’s arm.

“I am if you want your son back,” she said, pulling her arm from his grasp.

She flew up to the 6th floor and into a window that didn’t have flames spilling out of it, listening for any crying. She didn’t hear any.

She walked through as many rooms as she could find, desperately searching for the child while the flames she couldn’t push out of her way licked her skin.

Lexa fought through the pain, only focused on saving the boy.

There was one room left on the 6th floor to be searched but it was behind a wall of flames. As Lexa took time to consider how she would go about saving the young man, she started to feel all of the smoke she had inhaled start to take effect.

As her eyes began to drift closed, all of a sudden, Lexa felt a huge gust of wind push her over and the flames went out. Every spark was gone.

She started coughing, finally getting a breath of fresh air.

When she opened her eyes, she saw him. The boy was there, in the middle of the room, lying on the floor.

She quickly ran to him and scooped him into her arms, checking for any sign of life.

She could assess that he had been burned pretty severely on his left arm. However, she was able to locate a pulse.

Just then, Lexa heard the firefighters arrive in their truck.

She quickly flew the boy out the window and down to his parents who were both sobbing now.

“He’s been burned but I felt a pulse,” she said.

The mother gasped with joy and reached for her boy’s face, brushing black soot from his cheek.

“I’m going to bring him to the firemen,” Lexa said. “They’ll know what to do.”

The woman nodded as her and her husband followed Lexa to the fire truck where Lexa left the boy in the possession of the firemen who were mumbling about a possible power surge.

“Who are you?” the man asked of Lexa, the savior of his only son.

Lexa considered the question, only now realizing she had done all of this in her black sports bra, boxer briefs, and blue, gel eye mask she had worn to prevent puffy eyes. Embarrassed, she knew she couldn’t reveal her true identity so she thought back to her German fairytales class from last week.

“Heda,” she said, remembering it meant something akin to “female warrior”.

“Thank you, Heda,” the woman said. “Thank you!”

“I couldn’t have done it if the flames hadn’t gone out. Thanks for your help,” she said, turning to the firemen who just shrugged.

“You’re welcome,” said a voice from behind her.

She turned to find a curvy blonde with blue eyes. This was about all she could see of the woman who was clad in something resembling what surfers wear, yellow gloves that resembled those a hockey player might wear, and a masquerade-type mask.

She stuck her hand out which Lexa took in her own and began to shake.

“Sorry I’m late,” the mysterious woman said. “Didn’t think I’d ever get to actually wear this.”

Lexa’s gay ass could only think to say, “Hi, uh,” not sure how to address her.

The woman chuckled.

 

“You can call me Collision.”


	2. Meanwhile...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke reflects on the day she got her powers just before the first time she actually has to use them.
> 
> Or
> 
> Clarke's origin story and her perspective of the day of the fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really got carried away with this one lol. It's double the length of my usual chapters so...you're welcome?? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

        Clarke woke up that morning with a yawn, a stretch, and a flex of her muscles. Checking the clock, she saw it was almost 11 A.M. She got out of bed, and groggily walked to her closet, ignoring the costume she had made for herself years ago but still hadn’t had an opportunity to try out, and instead opting for a simple t-shirt and shorts.

        She had the day off of work and decided to go to her makeshift gym to work out. Clarke left her apartment and made her way to the old, abandoned junkyard she was very familiar with.

        Once there, she slipped through the gash she had torn in the fence long ago and looked for something heavy. Her eyes landed on an old refrigerator and she smiled. Perfect.

 

        As she spun the fridge on her finger like a basketball, having just done 100 reps on each arm, Clarke contemplated what she’d do with the rest of her day off. Tossing the fridge back onto the junk pile, she decided she would catch up on her favorite tv show once she got home.

        Before she left the neighborhood, Clarke made sure to get a warm donut and milk from her favorite bakery.

        “As if my bones need to be any stronger,” she thought as she chuckled to herself.

        After she paid for the donut and milk, she sat at a small table to eat her ~~breakfast~~ lunch and thought back to the first time she came here.

 

* * *

  

_Clarke had reached puberty a bit later than her peers, but, when it finally hit, boy did it hit. Her face began to break out and her breasts began to grow even larger than some of the other girls’ who received Mother Nature’s call in just fourth grade._

_With the usual products of pubescence came her power. Clarke, being an eighth-grader at the time, didn’t immediately recognize its presence._

 

_The game had begun and her classmates rushed forward to snatch the dodgeballs from the gymnasium floor. Clarke, however, knew better. She had stayed behind, watching a third of those who had run forward get pelted with balls almost immediately. She waited, patiently, for a ball to roll near her so that she may throw it, but each time she had gotten close to grabbing a ball, it was snatched away by a more athletic, more popular player._

_Eventually, as luck would have it, the players had been so focused on eliminating the more threatening players of each team that they had forgotten Clarke existed and had unintentionally saved her for last. With the rest of her team sitting on the sidelines and with a single opponent left, she had monopolized the dodgeballs, dodging each that he had thrown at her and waiting until he was defenseless._

_Finally, Clarke picked up a dodgeball for the first time during that game as Bellamy, her opponent, realized he had nothing to use as a shield and would have to catch whichever ball Clarke threw to be able to win the game. Clarke looked between Bellamy, who was getting prepared to catch the ball, and her teammates who were cheering her on and shouting commands to throw it. The fate of the temporary team rested with Clarke for the first time ever. She looked down at the ball then back up at Bellamy, this time with determination._

_Clarke wound her arm back and threw the ball as Bellamy, anticipating where the ball would end up, extended his right hand to snag it out of the air. He regretted this decision almost as soon as he made it._

_The ball rocketed across the gym so fast it was almost impossible to see. The extent of what the students could make out was a blur hitting Bellamy’s hand before he dropped to the floor with a shout, holding onto his wrist._

_The gym teacher looked up from where she was seated, reading her magazine, at the sound and rushed over to assist him. She eventually determined that Clarke had simply thrown him off balance and he had fallen, breaking his wrist from “landing funny.”_

_All of the students seemed to accept this causation as it was the most logical. All except Clarke. As the rest of the students crowded around Bellamy or celebrated their win, Clarke looked at her hands, confused._

_The rest of that very day had been extremely strange. Clarke was breaking pencils in class and bending spoons at lunch with ease._

_After a day of this, Clarke began to handle objects very carefully in fear of becoming even more of an outcast. It wasn’t until high school that she finally realized what she used to think of as a weakness might actually be a strength, literally and figuratively. Clarke decided to hone her skill as best she could._

 

_First, she joined a gym. That was short-lived, however, once she began to break every piece of equipment they offered. Although, through breaking one of their ellipticals, she realized that it wasn’t just her arms that were strong; her legs had super strength as well. Clarke temporarily placed her hunt for a gym that could handle her strength on hold in order to focus on school._

_One day, she missed the bus and, unfortunately, her mother was still working at the hospital. This meant Clarke would have to walk to school. On her way, she noticed an old junkyard she hadn’t seen before. Within it, she spotted an old, rusted-over car. Clarke’s eyes lit up. It would be perfect for testing the true extent of her power. But it would have to wait until after school. She hurried along and made it to class just on time._

_Once school was over, she headed back to the junkyard, hopped the fence, set her backpack down, and sprinted to the car. Clarke took a deep breath and rolled her wrists around to prepare herself for the heaviest item she has attempted to lift._

_She squatted down, placed her hands underneath the car, and began to lift. To her surprise, the car didn’t feel heavy at all. She was able to feel some of its weight in her hands, of course, but it felt as though it only weighed as much as a common laptop._

_Feeling braver, she tipped the car on its side and got a better grip on its undercarriage before attempting to lift it over her head. As it rose off of the ground, dirt, glass, and rust began to fall down around her. With newfound confidence, Clarke slowly removed her left hand. Finally, she began to remove each finger, one by one, until she was left with only her index finger._

_Clarke was full of amazement. She could not believe she was currently lifting a car with just one finger! From that point on, Clarke vowed to use her power solely for the good of mankind, should any force threaten such a thing. However, she was left with one question: Was there no limit to what she could lift?_

_As she pondered this, she found herself leaving the junkyard and walking around the block until she came across a delicious odor which caused her to look up._

 

* * *

  

        The origin of the smell was the bakery at which she was now seated.

        When Clarke was finished eating, she went home to take a much-needed shower. Once the sweat was washed from her skin, she decided that she would take a relaxing bath as well.

        “Might as well take advantage of my time off of work,” she thought as she gathered a towel and the bath bomb that she hadn’t had a chance to use in the months that had passed since she had received it.

        While one might assume that Clarke’s super strength came with a need to stay active and adrenalized, this wasn’t the case. Clarke certainly enjoyed working her muscles, but she cherished what rare, calm, quiet moments she had.

        After her bath, Clarke retired to the living room where she dried her hair while turning on the TV. She sat and watched for a couple of hours until it was time for her second and final meal of the day.

        Once she had prepared her frozen dinner, Clarke sat back on the couch and began to eat. When she was finished, she fell into a YouTube rabbit hole and ended up falling asleep on the couch.

        Clarke was jolted awake by the sound of sirens. She sat up and crossed the room to the window, wondering what the fuss was about. She rarely heard sirens within the fairly nice neighborhood in which she resided. Glancing past her curtains, she saw a police car speeding down her street. Polis wasn’t a large city, but it certainly wasn’t a small town either.

        “If there had been a crime or emergency, it couldn’t have been too severe,” Clarke thought, turning back around to make her way to her bedroom so that she could resume her slumber more comfortably. That’s when she heard three more police cars dart past her window.

        Clarke hesitated for only a moment, recognizing this as her chance to finally introduce Collision, a moniker she had given to herself only after realizing “Smash”, “Boom”, and other forms of onomatopoeia just weren’t her, to the Polis public. She ran to her bedroom and pushed all of her other clothes aside before pulling out the black wetsuit with yellow accents and black mask she had kept hidden all these years. Before walking out the door, she slipped on yellow basketball shoes and yellow hockey gloves to complete her look.

        Once Clarke was outside, shrouded in shadows, she followed the sound of the sirens to a burning apartment building engulfed in flames. As she surveyed the scene, she noticed police officers gazing at the fire which wasn’t uncommon. However, she also noticed a man and woman standing by as an ambulance waited for them. She inferred that there must be someone still in the building.

        Thinking quickly, she tried to imagine a way her super strength could help, not hurt, the situation. She had an idea but she had never attempted the move before. There was no telling what would happen. But, the reward was worth the risk so she decided to try it: the Sonic Clap.

        Clarke ran out into the open from where she had been concealed in the shadows, extended her arms, and used all of her strength to clap them together. A shockwave emanated from her hands, causing cars to shudder away from her and those standing within 200 feet of her to be knocked over by the force of the blow. The fire was blown out like a candle in an instant.

        Clarke stood, looking at her hands with amazement she hadn’t felt since first discovering her gift. Those around her began to rise, unsure of what had just happened. They slowly began to look in Clarke’s direction, correctly assuming she had caused the concussive blast, as the firefighters showed up in their truck. Just as they had started to become angry, the citizens realized the fire had gone out because of the powerful clap.

        Clarke followed their eyes to the scorched building, remembering there was someone still inside. Just as she was about to run in and locate the victim, a large figure flew out of the window, causing Clarke to widen her eyes and retreat a few steps. As it landed, Clarke realized that it had not been one figure but two: a small boy and someone with a womanly figure.

        Clarke watched as the couple who had been watching the building ran forward and greeted the small boy who Clarke assumed was their son. The woman carried him to the paramedics to be tended to while the couple followed. Clarke, confident that this woman would not hurt her, began to make her way over to the interaction, curious about this woman who also seemed to possess a power. As Clarke got closer, she heard the woman’s voice, catching the end of the conversation.

        “Heda.”

        “Thank you, Heda,” the mother said. “Thank you!”

        “I couldn’t have done it if the flames hadn’t gone out,” the mysterious Heda continued. “Thanks for your help,” she said, turning to the firemen who just shrugged.

        “You’re welcome,” Clarke replied from behind her. Heda turned, surprised by Clarke’s presence. She took in Clarke’s features as Clarke took in hers. Heda was wearing nothing but black boxer briefs, a black sports bra, and a blue, gel mask around her eyes. “Strange costume choice,” Clarke thought, but she couldn’t stop her eyes from wandering across the expanse of skin exposed by the super stranger. “Sorry I’m late,” she said, meeting Heda’s eyes. “Didn’t think I’d ever get to actually wear this.”

        “Hi, uh,” she said. Clarke realized Heda wasn’t sure how to address her. Clarke stuck out her hand.

        “You can call me Collision,” she said coolly.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, folks.
> 
> As always, if you see mistakes feel free to let me know in the comments. Even if it's as little as a missing comma. I really appreciate it.
> 
> My tumblr is calm-at-the-rave but that has nothing to do with this story..


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